


A Hawkins Summer

by warmsunlight



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dumb teenagers being dumb, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02, Recreational Drug Use, Steve Harrington Being an Asshole, Steve Harrington's Scoops Ahoy Uniform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:43:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmsunlight/pseuds/warmsunlight
Summary: Funnel cake, a little weed, and empty houses are all you need to help you score the man of your dreams.





	A Hawkins Summer

**Author's Note:**

> In a group chat with my friends, someone texted a picture of a poster for a local fair followed by "wanna go here rolling off our asses?" and thus birthed the idea for this story.

Billy was going crazy. It had been two months. Two whole months and Steve wouldn't look at him. After Billy had all but killed him that night at the Byers, it was understandable that he didn't want anything to do with him, but he wouldn't even glance his way anymore. Steve ignored him like his life depended on it, and maybe, he thought it did. Billy didn't actually want to kill him, contrary to popular belief. He still had nightmares about it, if he was being honest. Images of Steve's perfect cheeks bloodied under his pounding fists, his big bright eyes dimming out until there was nothing, void. 

Billy might've actually killed him if it weren't for Max. So, it did make sense. Made sense why Steve wouldn't go anywhere near him on the court, avoided eye contact in the hallways at all costs. But Billy was coming to a tipping point. It was like he was going through withdrawal. The life in Steve's eyes was the only thing that made him excited anymore, and now it was gone, never to be directed his way again. He had to do something, like, yesterday.

The locker room was dank, sweaty bodies milling around, heading to the showers, laughing amongst themselves. Billy sat on a bench, letting his body cool down as his teammates sent compliments his direction for his work in practice today. What can he say, he plays best when he’s angry. And today was the day for it. He left his house this morning with a slap in the face from Neil, his way of saying “Have a wonderful day, son.” and came to school with fire simmering under his skin. The ever-growing annoyance of being ignored by Steve was starting to turn into rage.

He took too long in the shower, letting the heat of the water ease some of the tightness in his muscles. He pulled on his jeans, body still damp, not wanting to waste time, already on his way to being late to bring Max home. But a clatter and swear to his right had him looking into the eyes of Steve, a Steve who had apparently been attempting to sneak out the door without confrontation. He had dropped his shampoo bottle, and was now scooping his things into his arms hurriedly. Max could wait.

“Hey Harrington!” Billy called after his receding figure. The boy flinched, but turned around, stony.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” He sounded bored, putting his things into his gym bag, not wanting to deal with Billy’s shit. They were the first words Billy had heard from the boy in too long, but he still wanted to break his nose, bruise his chest, something to make him realize that he existed and could fuck him up nicely (again), if he really wanted to. He walked forward, over to Steve, crowding him against the locker. Just breathed for a moment, watched as the boy squirmed under his gaze.

He smirked. “You played well today.” Steve scoffed, and made to push Billy out of his way, but Billy caught his wrists before he could. And there it was, a flash of fear. Colors seeped into Billy’s rage red world. He felt giddy with it. Before he could do something stupid like smile though, Steve opened his mouth.  
“What the hell is your problem, would you let me go?” Not in the right headspace, Billy complied immediately. Steve huffed and shook out his hands, as if to get the memory of Billy off his skin. “God, you always do this shit. Do you seriously hate me that much?” Billy hesitated, still reeling from this sudden burst of attention, looked anywhere but Steve, searching for help somewhere in the empty locker room. “I don’t get it, you already almost killed me. Just leave me the fuck alone.” He’s frozen as Steve starts to walk away. This is not what he wanted to happen. He thought maybe Steve would punch him, spit in his face, do something. But this was cold, Steve really didn’t give a shit about him, just wanted him to fuck off.

“Steve.” The name feels weird outside of his head, heavy on his tongue. He hears Steve’s footsteps stop, but he doesn’t dare look up. “I’m sorry.” _Fuck, idiot_. He wonders if Steve can see how fast his heart is beating from where he’s standing. How did he cave that fast? He knows Steve hasn’t left yet, the door didn’t open. The sounds of the plumbing are suddenly overwhelmingly loud. _Why is he still standing there? _Billy's eyes betray him and he looks up to see Steve standing very still, just looking at Billy. He feels trapped under his gaze, an expression in those brown eyes that has never been aimed at Billy before: amusement. He can barely breathe as he utters the next words. “For like, everything.” Steve is smirking now, eyes laughing. King Steve. King Steve is looking at Billy and he might explode.

“Yeah?” Billy hadn’t expected Steve to respond, so he’s nodding like an idiot, some bitch desperate for Steve approval, which, let’s be real here. He is.

Steve laughs, scathing, smirk gone. “Well don’t tell me, show me.”

And he’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (published) story, and it's not fully written yet. I'm just at the point where I need to get something out or I never actually will. Hope you enjoy! Comments always appreciated <3


End file.
